So the last time I went in, nothing interesting happened. Nothing really interesting happened yesterday either, but I did get to see one of my favorite regulars, Mr. Patterson. Some people aren't so fond of him, mostly those that work the floor, sometimes he's irritating. But at the registers he's fine. I feel there is no way to properly do justice to this gentleman with the written word, but I'll do my best.
He's an old man, quite tall, and quite thin. He has blue eyes and white hair, and is plenty wrinkly. He comes in wearing dress pants and a nice shirt, with a scarf, blue trench, and hat on. Not just any hat mind you, a fedora. The odd manner of dress is part of what makes him interesting, but mostly it's his voice and manner of speaking. His voice is kind of wavery with a slight stutter, likely due to his age, and he's one of those people that if you aren't paying attention you might think is British or something, then you realize, no, he just speaks properly. Except not so properly that he isn't prone to the occasional mumble. And his favorite phrase: "You see."
For instance, last night, he was in the store, and I really wanted him to come to my register so I hurried the boy who was buying some Naruto book with his allowance money and wanting me to check on the price of a bookmark (which are way too expensive by the way, they're like, $3.99, minimum). So then Mr. Patterson comes up and he's buying some bulky classical music compendium for 2008. And so when I ask him, "Anything else for you?" he replies, "Yes, someone to carry it for me!" And it takes me a minute to get his joke. Then he launches into a long rambling explanation, beginning with "you see," of how they normally publish it as a periodical but this year they are forcing everyone to replace it all with a big volume . . . or whatever, I wasn't really listening I was giggling to myself because his voice is so funny.
One of my favorite stories to tell when I do my (very poor) impression of Mr. Patterson is about the day he came in wearing jeans, a sweatshirt, and a baseball hat. He came to my register and I said, with exagerrated suprise, "Mr. Patterson! You look so casual today! Why the change?" (I speak to Mr. Patterson using the voice usually reserved for my grandmother and small children). And he said, "Well, you see, I-I was going to go hiking today, you see, but the roads, they were covered in ice. Slippery, you see. So I couldn't go, and I came here."
And that is Mr. Patterson. He is such an odd character, and it's those odd characters that make me occasionally miss working at the bookstore.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Breaking Dawn (I apolgize for the length)
So, pretty much right after I began this blog, a friend of mine sent me a cake with a file in it, and I was able to break out of jail . . . in other words, she recommended me for a position with her company, and I got it.
So this blog suddenly became irrelevant. It wasn't without a little sadness that I left the bookstore. Two years isn't an eternity, but in a place where those who aren't lifers are only there a few months, I had let my roots grow deeper than many. So while I was looking forward to starting a new chapter in my life (to use an all too appropriate cliche), the experience was bittersweet. The response to my departure was heartwarming. One co-worker, with whom my relationship had been somewhat tumultuous, cried when I told her I put in my two-weeks. A supervisor teasingly refused to talk to me, calling me a traitor. I got a good-bye card with a cute kitty that made me tear-up. The woman who cried (I call her A) gave me a box of cookies and a card expressing her jumbled emotions, thanking me for my friendship, which I'd never quite realized we'd had. All this made me feel kind of warm and fuzzy inside, giving me a different perspective on the place I'd been bitching about for some time.
And basically, I decided to go contingent, meaning that when someone calls out, they can call me, and I can come in to work if I'm available. This meant I didn't have to say good-bye forever, to my co-workers or my discount (which I'm eligible to receive on days I work).
Since my last day a month ago, they've called me twice to have me come in. The first time was for a shift on the day my boyfriend arrived back in town from Ireland. So that was a no. The second time was during moving weekend. Also a no.
Yesterday I was working my very grown up 9-5 style job, and they called me to work the midnight release of Stephanie Meyer's Breaking Dawn, the fourth and final book in the Twilight Series. It's a young adult series about vampires, but it's popular with adults, too, although the fan base is largely teenage girls. It definitely seems like a fun teen melodrama, but I haven't read them. The movie based on the first book, Twilight, comes out this winter, so even though it was plenty popular before, it's even more popular now.
I'd never worked a release party before. I played the public transportation card for the release of the seventh Harry Potter book, so I got out of that experience. But this time, a friend/co-worker volunteered to give me a ride, so I thought, "What the hell? Could be fun."
"Fun," is an interesting term to apply to dealing with a crowd of walking hormones in way-too-adult black dresses and make-up from 8 p.m. to 1 a.m. after being up since 5 a.m and working 8 hours at my day job. It was draining, but it was still a little bit fun.
Basically, it was very crowded, and very loud. There were activities and a trivia game and a costume contest. The worst, in terms of damage to my eardrums, was the costume contest. Basically, there were some girls in decorated t-shirts, a couple kids in creative outfits, and a lot of scantily clad jail-bait.
But what caused the most ear-piercing shrieks were the two teenage boys, certainly too young to be called men but older than most of the crowd and therefore through their growth spurt, whose "costumes" consisted of taking off their shirts. Lordy! The wails and giggles and screams! I was turned to one of my co-workers to say, "Gawd, you'd think the New Kids on the Block were here," and started laughing instead as I realized that none of the kids in this crowd have ever heard of NKOTB (to be honest, they were even a little before my time). My co-worker politely informed me that it's the Jonas Brothers and Miley Siris that make kids go wild these days.
Since I wasn't on the schedule, I just acted as a Jack-of-All-Trades, handing out wristbands to those on the reserve list, giving the pink wait-list bands to those not on the list (the majority), putting books away, answering phones (pretty much useless, since it was too loud to hear anything), and working the register. I took a half hour break (I didn't have to, but it had been a long day) and spent much of it waiting in line at the cafe for coffee.
A minute after midnight, the books went on sale. I worked one of the registers. The younger girls shrieked when I handed over their books. "I'M HOLDING BREAKING DAWN!" one squealed. One girl said her and her friends were having a slumber party, sliding a little sarcasm into the word "slumber" to admit it wasn't a possibility that night. Her friend, a girl in red lipstick and what looked like a doll's corset (because nothing else could be that small), stood near her sullenly, having ordered hers from amazon.com. One woman had reserved six copies.
Much to my surprise, we were through by quarter to one. I had expected it to take much longer. I don't know what the turnout actually was, though I would estimate a couple hundred. No where near the turn-out for Deathly Hollows, but still, not exactly a small crowd.
So that was my first venture back into bookselling. I'm sure there will be more to come. Stay tuned.
So this blog suddenly became irrelevant. It wasn't without a little sadness that I left the bookstore. Two years isn't an eternity, but in a place where those who aren't lifers are only there a few months, I had let my roots grow deeper than many. So while I was looking forward to starting a new chapter in my life (to use an all too appropriate cliche), the experience was bittersweet. The response to my departure was heartwarming. One co-worker, with whom my relationship had been somewhat tumultuous, cried when I told her I put in my two-weeks. A supervisor teasingly refused to talk to me, calling me a traitor. I got a good-bye card with a cute kitty that made me tear-up. The woman who cried (I call her A) gave me a box of cookies and a card expressing her jumbled emotions, thanking me for my friendship, which I'd never quite realized we'd had. All this made me feel kind of warm and fuzzy inside, giving me a different perspective on the place I'd been bitching about for some time.
And basically, I decided to go contingent, meaning that when someone calls out, they can call me, and I can come in to work if I'm available. This meant I didn't have to say good-bye forever, to my co-workers or my discount (which I'm eligible to receive on days I work).
Since my last day a month ago, they've called me twice to have me come in. The first time was for a shift on the day my boyfriend arrived back in town from Ireland. So that was a no. The second time was during moving weekend. Also a no.
Yesterday I was working my very grown up 9-5 style job, and they called me to work the midnight release of Stephanie Meyer's Breaking Dawn, the fourth and final book in the Twilight Series. It's a young adult series about vampires, but it's popular with adults, too, although the fan base is largely teenage girls. It definitely seems like a fun teen melodrama, but I haven't read them. The movie based on the first book, Twilight, comes out this winter, so even though it was plenty popular before, it's even more popular now.
I'd never worked a release party before. I played the public transportation card for the release of the seventh Harry Potter book, so I got out of that experience. But this time, a friend/co-worker volunteered to give me a ride, so I thought, "What the hell? Could be fun."
"Fun," is an interesting term to apply to dealing with a crowd of walking hormones in way-too-adult black dresses and make-up from 8 p.m. to 1 a.m. after being up since 5 a.m and working 8 hours at my day job. It was draining, but it was still a little bit fun.
Basically, it was very crowded, and very loud. There were activities and a trivia game and a costume contest. The worst, in terms of damage to my eardrums, was the costume contest. Basically, there were some girls in decorated t-shirts, a couple kids in creative outfits, and a lot of scantily clad jail-bait.
But what caused the most ear-piercing shrieks were the two teenage boys, certainly too young to be called men but older than most of the crowd and therefore through their growth spurt, whose "costumes" consisted of taking off their shirts. Lordy! The wails and giggles and screams! I was turned to one of my co-workers to say, "Gawd, you'd think the New Kids on the Block were here," and started laughing instead as I realized that none of the kids in this crowd have ever heard of NKOTB (to be honest, they were even a little before my time). My co-worker politely informed me that it's the Jonas Brothers and Miley Siris that make kids go wild these days.
Since I wasn't on the schedule, I just acted as a Jack-of-All-Trades, handing out wristbands to those on the reserve list, giving the pink wait-list bands to those not on the list (the majority), putting books away, answering phones (pretty much useless, since it was too loud to hear anything), and working the register. I took a half hour break (I didn't have to, but it had been a long day) and spent much of it waiting in line at the cafe for coffee.
A minute after midnight, the books went on sale. I worked one of the registers. The younger girls shrieked when I handed over their books. "I'M HOLDING BREAKING DAWN!" one squealed. One girl said her and her friends were having a slumber party, sliding a little sarcasm into the word "slumber" to admit it wasn't a possibility that night. Her friend, a girl in red lipstick and what looked like a doll's corset (because nothing else could be that small), stood near her sullenly, having ordered hers from amazon.com. One woman had reserved six copies.
Much to my surprise, we were through by quarter to one. I had expected it to take much longer. I don't know what the turnout actually was, though I would estimate a couple hundred. No where near the turn-out for Deathly Hollows, but still, not exactly a small crowd.
So that was my first venture back into bookselling. I'm sure there will be more to come. Stay tuned.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Somedays you can't help yourself . . .
You know exactly how you are supposed to behave, that you always have to be polite and friendly. With a few exceptions, I generally do a pretty good job sticking to that. But some days, I don't have enough sleep to be as nice as I should be. Like today.
Two people called out today, so that already put me in a certain kind of mood. Then a girl came to my register on a cell phone. I rang up her book, I don't even remember what it was, something from the business section, I think. It came to less than $30. She handed me a credit card, which I immediately turned over to check for a signature (our policy only requires us to ask for an I.D. if it's not signed). It was blank, but before I even finish asking to see a picture I.D. she says, "It's a business card." I look at the front and it says Jason something or other. I explain that we need the card holder present. She lets out an agitated breath and finds another card. I flip it over, see that it is also blank, and look at her. She says, "It's debit." We don't have that feature, so she fishes out her license and I run her card through. I give her receipt and then she asks, "Actually, can I just get this online?" I explain that it's probably something the website carries. So she tells me she doesn't want this because she doesn't want to have to pay for it. All this while she still talking on the phone! I'd be so irritated if I were the person on the other end of the line.
Now, she wasn't extraordinarily rude, I've dealt with worse and been fine. But for some reason, I was really ticked at her.
So I processed a return on the book, as slowly as humanly possible, and handed her the receipt. Then I turned around to put the book on the shelf to go back, and I heard her say thank you. But I had my back turned, and her voice wasn't loud, so I ignored her. And when I turned back around she had stopped and turned, and once I saw her she repeated loudly, "THANK YOU."
And while the words that came out of my mouth were, "Have a nice day," what I meant was, "Fuck you." And that's what she heard too, judging by the look on her face. She knew exactly what I meant. But she wouldn't be able to complain because I hadn't said anything wrong, and I'd said it with a smile on my face. And something about that feels really satisfying. That may be a little pathetic, but hey, it's the little joys, right?
Two people called out today, so that already put me in a certain kind of mood. Then a girl came to my register on a cell phone. I rang up her book, I don't even remember what it was, something from the business section, I think. It came to less than $30. She handed me a credit card, which I immediately turned over to check for a signature (our policy only requires us to ask for an I.D. if it's not signed). It was blank, but before I even finish asking to see a picture I.D. she says, "It's a business card." I look at the front and it says Jason something or other. I explain that we need the card holder present. She lets out an agitated breath and finds another card. I flip it over, see that it is also blank, and look at her. She says, "It's debit." We don't have that feature, so she fishes out her license and I run her card through. I give her receipt and then she asks, "Actually, can I just get this online?" I explain that it's probably something the website carries. So she tells me she doesn't want this because she doesn't want to have to pay for it. All this while she still talking on the phone! I'd be so irritated if I were the person on the other end of the line.
Now, she wasn't extraordinarily rude, I've dealt with worse and been fine. But for some reason, I was really ticked at her.
So I processed a return on the book, as slowly as humanly possible, and handed her the receipt. Then I turned around to put the book on the shelf to go back, and I heard her say thank you. But I had my back turned, and her voice wasn't loud, so I ignored her. And when I turned back around she had stopped and turned, and once I saw her she repeated loudly, "THANK YOU."
And while the words that came out of my mouth were, "Have a nice day," what I meant was, "Fuck you." And that's what she heard too, judging by the look on her face. She knew exactly what I meant. But she wouldn't be able to complain because I hadn't said anything wrong, and I'd said it with a smile on my face. And something about that feels really satisfying. That may be a little pathetic, but hey, it's the little joys, right?
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Odd Characters
The man I call "Cookie man" came in today. He's different from "cookie guy" in that cookie guy came in one night and stole a cookie from the cafe, while Cookie man pays for what he buys. He just buys stuff that makes me think he is either a) mentally a child, or b) attracted to children.
My first encounter with him was several months back. His age is hard to guess, probably forties or fifties. He is pretty much nondescript: tall, a little pale, always wears a hat. I call him Cookie Man because he often buys a magazine called Cookie. It's some family magazine. Why is that weird? Because something about him tells me is not a father, or a grandfather. Maybe he's an uncle. Maybe. His merchandise is always kid's stuff. For instance, today he was buying a Disney CD. I don't mean something respectable, like a soundtrack. I mean like something from the Disney Channel. It featured a bunch of kids singing. Everything he gets is always like that. Like, if he were buying this stuff for kids, he'd be buying stuff for himself too sometimes, right?
The weirdest thing about him though--and I didn't realize this until today--is that he never speaks. I haven't ever heard his voice. He nods and smiles. That's it. That's why I think he probably just operates on a child's level. Anyway, I hope that's the case and that he's not some pedophile. And if he is a pedophile, I hope he's just using this stuff to jerk off to, and he's not to lure some children into his house and/or car. That's probably a weird thing to hope.
My first encounter with him was several months back. His age is hard to guess, probably forties or fifties. He is pretty much nondescript: tall, a little pale, always wears a hat. I call him Cookie Man because he often buys a magazine called Cookie. It's some family magazine. Why is that weird? Because something about him tells me is not a father, or a grandfather. Maybe he's an uncle. Maybe. His merchandise is always kid's stuff. For instance, today he was buying a Disney CD. I don't mean something respectable, like a soundtrack. I mean like something from the Disney Channel. It featured a bunch of kids singing. Everything he gets is always like that. Like, if he were buying this stuff for kids, he'd be buying stuff for himself too sometimes, right?
The weirdest thing about him though--and I didn't realize this until today--is that he never speaks. I haven't ever heard his voice. He nods and smiles. That's it. That's why I think he probably just operates on a child's level. Anyway, I hope that's the case and that he's not some pedophile. And if he is a pedophile, I hope he's just using this stuff to jerk off to, and he's not to lure some children into his house and/or car. That's probably a weird thing to hope.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Judging a Book by its Cover
Terrible as it is, I judge people all day long. By their appearances or by their book choices. I have very little power in the world, but I do exercise what I've got. Meaning that what I think of you influences how hard I'll look for the book for you, or whether I'll bend the rules and let you use two coupons, or even give you one you didn't know was available. So, if you're buying the CD of a band I like, for instance, you're going to win points. Or if I find you attractive or polite.
On the other hand, there are some sure fire ways to make me think you are too stupid to deserve anything but the absolute minimum of customer service. One way is to buy the book Love & Respect by Emerson E. Eggerichs. I don't even need to open it to know this book is garbage. The subtitle is, "The Love She Most Desires, The Respect He Desperately Needs."
Um. Say what?
I first saw someone buying it several months ago. It was this sort of older, quiet seeming Asian man, and I instantly pictured him beating his wife at home. After I first noticed it, I began to see other men buying it as well, and entertained similar ideas. I think any man demanding respect from women is probably going to come off that way to me.
Then I started seeing women and couples buying it. It's selling with increasing regularity. It infuriates me because honestly, what could be more of a step back in terms of gender equality? I know this is a household sort of matter and not something that should affect the way things are done in business and politics. But honestly, if these people are procreating, we are just going to keep having men who think love is for girls and sissies and keep having women who don't expect respect. I mean, really? Only women want love, and only men need respect?
You are a damn fool if you think both love and respect aren't important to every human being on the planet, regardless of gender. PEOPLE desire love and PEOPLE need respect. Oh, and that's the other thing about the subtitle, in its wording, this asshole is giving love/women less of a priority. After all, the men "need" respect but the women only "desire" (want) love. Well, we all know that needs take precedence over wants, so which does he think is more important here? Screw this idiot, and screw all the people that read this bullshit! Honestly! Love is not only something we want, it's something we're hardwired to need to be happy. And respect isn't just something we need, it's something we earn.
We shelve it in the "Relationships" section, which actually means Bible crap disguised as advice. Oh yeah, if you're going to read this blog don't expect me to show any reverence for religion. Partly because of crap like this.
Hey everyone, follow "God's plan" for your marriage you and you can fall into antiquated gender roles! It's how life is supposed to be! Yay!
On the other hand, there are some sure fire ways to make me think you are too stupid to deserve anything but the absolute minimum of customer service. One way is to buy the book Love & Respect by Emerson E. Eggerichs. I don't even need to open it to know this book is garbage. The subtitle is, "The Love She Most Desires, The Respect He Desperately Needs."
Um. Say what?
I first saw someone buying it several months ago. It was this sort of older, quiet seeming Asian man, and I instantly pictured him beating his wife at home. After I first noticed it, I began to see other men buying it as well, and entertained similar ideas. I think any man demanding respect from women is probably going to come off that way to me.
Then I started seeing women and couples buying it. It's selling with increasing regularity. It infuriates me because honestly, what could be more of a step back in terms of gender equality? I know this is a household sort of matter and not something that should affect the way things are done in business and politics. But honestly, if these people are procreating, we are just going to keep having men who think love is for girls and sissies and keep having women who don't expect respect. I mean, really? Only women want love, and only men need respect?
You are a damn fool if you think both love and respect aren't important to every human being on the planet, regardless of gender. PEOPLE desire love and PEOPLE need respect. Oh, and that's the other thing about the subtitle, in its wording, this asshole is giving love/women less of a priority. After all, the men "need" respect but the women only "desire" (want) love. Well, we all know that needs take precedence over wants, so which does he think is more important here? Screw this idiot, and screw all the people that read this bullshit! Honestly! Love is not only something we want, it's something we're hardwired to need to be happy. And respect isn't just something we need, it's something we earn.
We shelve it in the "Relationships" section, which actually means Bible crap disguised as advice. Oh yeah, if you're going to read this blog don't expect me to show any reverence for religion. Partly because of crap like this.
Hey everyone, follow "God's plan" for your marriage you and you can fall into antiquated gender roles! It's how life is supposed to be! Yay!
Monday, June 16, 2008
Green Shoppers
So, I like that a lot of people are bringing their own bags when they go shopping. Even before it was en vogue, I generally would ask customers if they wanted a bag, particularly if they were only getting one item. I pretty much ask out of habit, at this point.
The funny thing is, sometimes, people ask for bags when they are buying books like Gorgeously Green.
For instance, today a girl came up to the register to ask if we had any recycled cards. She said she walked around both sides of the greeting card shelf but didn't see them.
"We just starting carrying them!" I said with the required mock enthusiasm. "Let me show you where they are, we don't have many, but we do sell them."
I point them out, on the bottom shelf, and she gave them a quick disapproving glance. Then she asked if we had cards for new babies. So I showed her where those were (we have a nice selection of those) and went back to my register to help another customer.
A moment or two later, she was back to make her purchase, which included neither a recycled card nor a baby card. She complained, "You guys should carry more recycled cards." I replied, "Yeah, maybe once they see people buying them, we'll get more of a selection." I then pointed out that the gift card she was buying is made of a product called Ingeo, made from plants not oil. She hadn't noticed and didn't seem to care.
Out of habit, I asked her if she wanted a bag (for her greeting card and gift card). In a spectacular show of hypocrisy, she replied yes. Seriously?
The funny thing is, sometimes, people ask for bags when they are buying books like Gorgeously Green.
For instance, today a girl came up to the register to ask if we had any recycled cards. She said she walked around both sides of the greeting card shelf but didn't see them.
"We just starting carrying them!" I said with the required mock enthusiasm. "Let me show you where they are, we don't have many, but we do sell them."
I point them out, on the bottom shelf, and she gave them a quick disapproving glance. Then she asked if we had cards for new babies. So I showed her where those were (we have a nice selection of those) and went back to my register to help another customer.
A moment or two later, she was back to make her purchase, which included neither a recycled card nor a baby card. She complained, "You guys should carry more recycled cards." I replied, "Yeah, maybe once they see people buying them, we'll get more of a selection." I then pointed out that the gift card she was buying is made of a product called Ingeo, made from plants not oil. She hadn't noticed and didn't seem to care.
Out of habit, I asked her if she wanted a bag (for her greeting card and gift card). In a spectacular show of hypocrisy, she replied yes. Seriously?
The Begining
So, for better or for worse, right now, I'm employed at a bookstore. It doesn't really matter which one, in fact, it hardly matters that it's a bookstore, because most retail workers pretty much experience all the same hells, it's just the details that change. But it's getting to the point where if I don't get out soon, I'm going to need to find a way to expel all this hostile energy that I build up servicing allegedly intelligent people. Don't get me wrong, some of these will be nice stories, I hope. But mostly this will be a lot of bitching and complaining about rude customers, incompetent co-workers, bass-ackwards company policies invented by beneficiaries of nepotism who have no real experience in retail, and any book that I judge (by its cover) to be unworthy of the paper on which it's printed. So don't expect a ray of sunshine here, folks.
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